


Once A Month

by Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers (writingfanfic)



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: F/M, Horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 20:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers
Summary: For the prompt: 'Could you write a Q x Reader where she's a horseback rider and she takes him along?'Most of what Q says is bluster. Probably.





	Once A Month

“That thing is pure fuckin’ evil.”

You sigh, smiling a little, and pet the horse’s muzzle gently as Q stares at it.

“You know they can smell fear?”

“So can dogs, Brian.”

“I don’t... keep dogs.”

“So can cats.”

“Cats are awesome, of course they can.” He steps forward, and extends his hand tremulously – you sigh, and reach out, turning it palm up. “Wh-what?”

“It means she can’t bite you. Let me put a treat in your palm for her…”

“B-bite me?”

“You could lose fingers.” You hold your palm out flat, and the horse whickers gently, before nibbling at it. Q is now staring at it in undisguised horror.  _He’s just not a horse person_ , you think regretfully.

“ _Lose fingers?_ ”

“It’s got big teeth! Just treat it like you would any other animal. Come here.” You grab his arm and haul him over; he extends his palm, and you place a treat on it. He sniffs it. “It’s meadow herb, so, uh, don’t.”

“ _I don’t need to be told not to eat the treats_ , jeez, how much of a fat fuck do you think I am…?” He licks it, and you groan, head in your hands. “I’m messin’ with you… uh. Ew. That’s gross.” He sticks his tongue out. “Okay, so… palm flat?”

“Very flat. And don’t like… move too fast, or jerk your hand away, or something. Just be slow and careful.” He extends his hand as if expecting to have it severed, and the animal on the other side of the stable door practically hoovers it up, tongue flickering over his hand. His face contorts into one part awe, two parts horror. “God’s sake, Brian, it’s a horse, not a bloody tiger.”

“I’d prefer a tiger. Thanks, Asshole. Can I call it Asshole?”

“Her name is Foxy,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “Pat her muzzle.” He nods, and raises his hand awkwardly. “You don’t have to keep your hand flat if it’s not near her mouth.”

“Good Asshole,” he mutters. “Nice Asshole.”

“Stop calling her Asshole. Foxy, good girl,” you coo, and he gently strokes her, down her nose; she whickers again, and butts his hand gently. “She likes you! She’s good, she’s the one you’ll be riding today.”

“Wait, what? I only came to watch you interact with the demons.” Foxy lowers her head, and he pats her nose again gently. “Uh, sorry, Asshole. I’m not gonna be your friend today.”

“Nope. We’re going for a ride, and you’re going to enjoy it. And, you’re going to help me muck out the stables.”

“ _Nope_.” Q shakes his head. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

“Yup, yup, yup.” You pat his shoulder, and guide him towards the stables. “Get your shovel on, boy.”

“You owe me a lot of sex for this,” he mutters, and you grin.

* * *

 

“I’ve ridden horses. Just… not a lot. And it’s not really my thing.”

“You got dragged around by one,” you note in amusement, and he sighs.

“I like horses.”

“I know.”

“They’re just evil fuckers.”

“Foxy’s not evil.”

You’re leading him by foot – you felt that riding alongside him and giving him full control of Foxy would probably not be a good idea. You sigh, shaking your head, and he shrugs noncommittally.

“Cats can be evil.”

“You’re evil.” You look back at him, and he frowns childishly. “You’re doing great. You’re a natural. Next time I might get you to saddle her up and everything.” He sighs, and you shake your head. “Your knuckles are white. This is called a ‘walk’, this is the slowest the horse goes without stopping.”

“I came here to feed Asshole a treat.” He shakes his head. “Now you’ve got me pretendin’ to be some kinda British feudal lord. I do not support fox-hunting, by the way. It’s evil.”

“Good boy. That was for you, by the way. Foxy’s a girl.” He rolls his eyes and huffs dramatically, even as you see a little flicker of a smile. “Now… Foxy, trot!” You click the command, and Foxy steps up – you hear him yelp as you begin to gently jog beside her. “Come on, Q! It’s all good fun!”

* * *

 

“I hurt. All of me hurts.”

You laugh, and Q gingerly touches the inside of his thighs, wincing a little.

“You know about the sex you owe me? Forget that.” He winces. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sit down for a few weeks.” You pat his thigh, and he looks at you. “Maybe the horses aren’t evil. Maybe you are.”

“Love you too,” you sigh, and he pauses.

“I could do that once a month. Maybe. Maximum,” he hazards, and you smile a little. “If I had to. For you.” You understand what he’s trying to say, and you reach out, gently squeezing his hand as he drives. “Yeah. Once a month.”


End file.
